by C. L. Black
“That’s so awful, Gran.”
“I should have planned ahead.”
“I’ll get it.” Catherine bent forward to snatch the handbag and handed it over. She retook Miss Christi’s hand. “I’m so sorry.” She felt her pain.
“It was the same method by which her father was killed. Did you know that?” asked Miss Christi, her brightness returned.
“No way.”
“Oh, yes, my dear, it’s quite true. My Katherine always called her father, the Colonel. His given name was James. He was on a plane leaving from Munich in 1940. It was late afternoon. Katherine said that it was raining that day as she watched the plane take off. Shortly after, his plane exploded. She was horrified. She watched the fireball fall from the sky. All on board were lost. You know, it is still believed her father was carrying a secret agreement that Herr Hitler himself had signed earlier that very day.”
“Herr Hitler?” Catherine’s brow rose, which signaled increasing disbelief. “Come on? Gran. Sounds like you’re making it all up.” She pulled her hand back, using it to tap on her iPod. The sound of Miss Perry could be heard emanating from the earbud dangling at her breast. Before she could fit the tiny speaker back in her ear, Miss Christi offered her challenge.
“Well then, my dear, maybe you’ll allow me the opportunity to prove it to you this summer?”
Catherine boasted, “Maybe I will. But I’m not easily fooled, you know.”
“I can see that, my dear. You are a very perceptive young woman.” She reached for, Katherine’s hand, taking it in her own. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together. I really do, kitten.”
Refilling her ear, Catherine turned away, pressing the iPod’s control until the music was all either could hear. Miss Christi reached for her Kindle. An hour passed before she tapped on Catherine’s shoulder. “Tell me, kitten. Do you still desire to become a Hushgirl?”
Pretending she didn’t hear, she pulled her left earbud. “What?”
“Do you truly wish to be educated as an assassin, dear?”
“Well. Yeah, I guess.” A devilish smile appeared. “It would be kinda cool. Wouldn’t it?” She tingled all over as she processed the offer. She agreed to listen with one ear while still enjoying the lyrics to her latest favorite song with the other. Though she tried to appear less interested, it did not escape Miss Christi’s eye when Catherine lowered the volume two notches.
The Worthless Whore
Eastbound at FL 350 off the coast of Newfoundland, 15:54 GMT
Krump One had completed its climb out from JFK. Established in level cruise, Captain Schumacher finished reviewing their flight plan with her first officer and relief pilot. All KrumpAir flight crews were female. Directly below, in the Airborne Command Center (ACC), Krump had requested the captain’s assistance with their very special guest.
A furious man sat at the command desk in the ACC, communicating with Karla using the aircraft’s secure satellite data link. The system utilized the latest IP voice encryption technology that included a feature capable of shifting voice patterns, disguising them. An added benefit was that it made one sound more menacing. He pounded the desk and shouted in German, “Worthless whore! You failed again?”
“Nein, Herr Krump. I personally armed the detonator when I placed the package on board her aircraft.”
“But it did not explode. Sterling must have disarmed it.”
“It is impossible, Herr Krump. Once armed, it’s tamperproof. The Tiger most likely never lifted it from the case, triggering the delay. Two hours, as you commanded. The chemical explosive would have incinerated everything within a ten-meter radius.”
“Enough! I am well aware of its capabilities. The Blachmann’s bitch used it to destroy my pretty new Nina doll.” Krump laughed. “It exploded last night, killing her overly curious roommate. No matter. I have the bitch’s old doll on board. She’s in some need of your TLC. Have Lucy prepare the room.”
“Ja, Herr Krump. I understand.”
The Invitation to Play
South Station, Boston, Massachusetts, 11:44 local
The Acela’s brakes squealed as it came to a halt on track nine. Miss Christi had invited the kitten to play a game—more of a competition—during her summer at the estate. Catherine wanted details. Miss Christi would give none. She said, “You’ll have the drive to the estate to contemplate your decision, my dear. Either accept, or decline. The choice is yours and yours alone. I cannot help you make it. Those are the rules.”
“But how can I? You haven’t told me what the game is.”
“You cannot change your mind once you decide. You have until we arrive at the Estate.
“Can’t you tell me what it is? How can I make that decision?”
“No, kitten. I cannot tell you that. I can only say this. If you want to learn who you truly are, you should choose yes. If you, my dear Katherine, want to live your life without any truth, simply say no. Yes or no? Accept or decline. You and only you can choose. Either way, I will always love you just the same.”
On the station platform, Catherine stood waiting as Miss Christi got her bearings.
“Come now, my dear, this way.” She offered an arm. “Let’s hurry out front and find our transportation.” Her arm untaken, Miss Christi turned back to notice her kitten having a conversation with a tall, slender brunette in dark glasses.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Catherine ran to catch up. “These fucking boots are killing me. I’m starting to wish I didn’t wear them.”
“Oh no, my dear, don’t think that. I love the way they look on you. You’ve given them new life.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I like the way I look in them too. They do kinda hurt a little though.”
“Yes, my dear kitten, I’m sure they hurt plenty. But sometimes we must bear the pain of experience to learn what pleasures our life has to offer. Isn’t that so, dear?”
“Huh? Yeah, I guess. You sure have a funny way of saying things, Gran. I mean, Miss Christi.”
“What did that woman want? Do you know her?”
“Who? That tall one?” Catherine glanced back at the woman. “She liked my boots. Asked where I got them. I told her, eBay.” She laughed, flipped her hair, batted her dark blue eyes, and added, “Never seen her before.” Would have remembered those tits.
“You may take off those lovely boots in the car, if you’d like, dear. I won’t tell. It shall remain our little secret.”
They mingled in with the throng, making their way toward the Summer Street exit. Miss Christi looked left, and then right. A warm sun was shining. It was sixty-seven degrees. It seemed the pleasant breeze that gave her comfort yesterday at Arlington was also there to greet them. She recalled the many times she and her Katherine’s heels had walked those same steps.
“There she is. See her? Over there, kitten.” Miss Christi pointed down Summer Street. “See her? There. She’s waving.”
Catherine turned to see. “Where?”
“Next to—”
“No fucking way!” shouted Catherine, staring in amazement at, “Danielle?” dressed in white patent leather, nice boots, fitted blazer, nice mini, and topped off with a, cute cap. Way cool.
“Yes, dear. On time, as always.” They walked quickly to the car.
Jane was there, seated in the front seat. She’d driven up with Danielle. Both had changed outfits when they dropped the Mercedes just outside Boston. Their new ride was a shiny white old-fashioned limo.
“Nice outfit, Dani. Did it come with the car? Where’s the fuckin’ wedding?” quipped Catherine as soon as they came within earshot.
Danielle should have expected it, standing beside the 1961 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II. Very rare and very, very expensive, this type of Rolls was often employed to transport brides on their wedding day. The old girl looked to be in pristine condition.
“Hello, Miss Christi.” Danielle turned to Catherine. “Enjoy your train ride, princess?”
“Yes!” The straightforward
answer surprised her as much as it did Danielle. She quickly recovered, adding with only a hint of sarcasm, “Miss Christi sure is a fun person to take a train ride with.”
Maybe there is hope? Danielle opened the rear door for Miss Christi and said, “Should have us all back at the Castle in under an hour, Mum.”
“There’s no need to hurry, dear.”
Showing no manners, Catherine jumped in, sliding across the back seat. The interior was like new. The white leather was oh-so-soft to the touch. Visibly impressed, Holy shit! She noticed the woman sitting in front. “Who’s she?”
Jane turned and said, “Security escort,” then raised the privacy divider.
“Security?” Catherine frowned, then ran her hand across the seat, taking in the new leather scent with a deep breath as Miss Christi stepped in and sat. “Wow! Pretty fucking nice, Gran!” She continued to fondle and take pleasure in the new leather’s aroma.
“Thank you, kitten, I’m happy it pleases you. We only recently had the interior redone. I do so love to be taken home in it after a long journey. You know, dear, I always pretend my Katherine sent it, to hurry me back to our secret castle where she waits. I dreamed it last night.”
“Yeah, I know,” whispered Catherine, while giving Miss Christi a look of delightfully naughty approval.
“Oh, I see.” For a second, Miss Christi thought she’d caught sight of a mouse’s tail between her kitten’s glossy red lips. “Can I help you with your boots, my dear?”
“Na, I can do it.”
Soon they were on the move. Miss Christi watched as Katherine lifted her long left leg, the tip of her stiletto heel came dangerously close. “Please let me, dear.” She pulled on the long zipper then sat back to observe as, their Catherine, removed the boot. It provided a pleasant remembrance.
“Mind if I inspect it, dear?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Catherine, handing the boot over before attacking the other.
Miss Christi inspected the old boot closely. She traced her finger over the stitching. The upper third of the boot’s shaft had been turned out and down and secured by red lacing, tightly knotted. Thus, the boot’s shaft prevented the gold sword and shield embossed with a five-pointed star, and the hammer and sickle, from being seen. An experienced thumb rubbed against the soft leather of the cuffed upper’s exposed inner. It appeared to give her kitten a scare. She then held the upper to her nose and inhaled. “Very nice. Italian, I’d say.”
Next, Miss Christi turned the boot over, admiring its engraved stiletto heel. Her fingers toyed with the chrome tip, discretely checking its security. She commented, “Titanium, I believe. Sixties vintage, I would say. Yes, top shelf.” She lowered the fancy boot, placing it with its sole mate now simmering on the floor.
“Yeah, I guess like, if you say so. I just think they’re like, way cool. Don’t you?”
“Yes dear, I do like. I wonder who else may have worn them. Do you?”
Catherine shrugged, “Who cares? They’re MK’s now.” Shit.
“Yes, for the time being, they are.”
“What the fuck!” Catherine grabbed, and pulled the boots onto her lap. “So, what do I gotta fuckin’ do in your game?”
“You have to win, my dear.”
“Duh. Like I fricken know that. But how?”
“I can say no more, kitten.”
The Castle
East Hampton, New Hampshire, 12:55 local
Awakened by the sound of breaking waves, Catherine lifted her head. The Castle… Her window was down as was the privacy divider. That security escort is eyeballing my boots. The Rolls took on an air of saltiness. Out the windshield, twin gilded gates guarded the formal entrance, and the twin cougars of Blachmann welcomed them. Just beyond, the drawbridge was raised. Behind, the ocean battered away at the rocky bluff. Unlike Catherine and the Atlantic, that woman from last night, Sterling, never truly slept. The massive golden gates parted. “Looking for something?”
“Only your decision, Miss Black. Ja or nein?” asked Jane.
“Huh?” She had all but forgotten. The invitation.
“Your decision, my dear?” echoed Miss Christi with a reverence.
Miss Black… She didn’t answer for the longest time as she studied Miss Christi’s face, as if searching for the answer. Not there. Fuck! She thought about yesterday, and then, Dani. “Yeah, I’ll play your stupid game. I’ll fricken beat you too,” boasted Catherine glaring, adding, “You too, bitch!” Yeah, I can’t wait to beat her fat ass too. Shut up, it’s not that fat.
“We shall see, Miss Black,” growled Jane.
Miss Christi cleared her throat and offered the contract. “Do you, Miss Katherine Black, with a clear conscience, and of free will, give your consent and submit yourself as my kitten, and to do as I, Miss Christi, and the new headmistress, shall desire from this moment until one September of this year?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Catherine, radiant with confidence. “Piece of cake.”
“Yes what, my dear?”
“Yes, Miss Christi. I, Miss Catherine Black, freely and willingly give my consent to be your little kitten from now until the first of September.” Or at least until I get the fuck out of here, Miss Granny!
“Then, my dearest kitten, it would seem we do have a binding contract.” Miss Christi offered a tentative hand.
Catherine took hold, shaking briskly. “Deal, Granma! I’ll play your stupid game this summer and I’ll win too. Bet I trounce all of you. You’ll see. I’ll beat you. I know I’ll win. You’ll see.”
“We’ll see who trounces whom, my dear. But I, for one, do hope you win too.”
Both shared triumphant faces as Dani and Security looked on. They weren’t smiling. The Rolls edged forward to the second gate. They waited as the first gate closed. Out her window, she could see the wall and the moat. Her triumphant view faded.
Catherine peered past the gold-spiked black ironwork at, the wall. The wall was twelve foot high and made of concrete. Three feet thick at its base, with a foot-thick top, embedded with broken glass, bordered the two public roads that formed the Estate’s dual fronts. Intended to keep prying eyes at a safe distance, it was useless against today’s digital voyeurs in the sky. Its inner wall sloped down into the water and then continued straight down another eight feet to the granite bedrock. The man-made concrete moat was twenty-four feet wide.
Ground access to Blachmann was provided by three double-gated entrances. The first, the one they passed through, served as the formal and east entrance. The second was the less formal family and service south entrance located on State Road 111. The Gate House was located just inside the south entrance. The third was the nearly forgotten old rail spur that once connected the Castle to the old Eastern line of the Boston and Maine railroad, and the world. Once someone was inside, escape was impossible. Jane instructed Danielle to “Proceed.”
Catherine turned back to see the formidable gates shut. She looked ahead. The drawbridge lowered. They crossed over the moat and started up the drive. There it was, rising up out of the mist. Blachmann Castle? “Holy shit, I’m at fucking Hogwarts. I don’t remember any of this. It’s so f-in big.” It really does look like a fricken castle.
Ja. She’d forgotten so much. Sitting atop of the grassy rise, and framed by two large turrets, the main residence had two levels. The servant’s quarters were in the attic. The magnitude of the site grabbed her interest. Looks different than I remember. It was. The Castle only recently completed a long-overdue facelift. The exterior refinished to its, like new again, appearance, and the leaky green roof had been replaced. All cleaned up and in peak health, she survived one hundred harsh New England winters, and countless corrosive gales, not to mention the few hurricanes and several devastating Nor’easters. The old girl had out lived them all and was now ready to endear her guests for a hundred more. Right…
Impressed as Jane was, Catherine’s only concern was escape. She hadn’t been back to the estate since turning four. Her parents never ta
lked about their time at Blachmann. I had like, totally forgotten like, how fricken grand this all was. Then, she spotted the outline of the diving platform and shouted, “The pool!” Like a kid, she tugged on Miss Christi’s arm. “Can I swim in the pool? You still have it, don’t you, Gran?” She wore a Disney smile.
Jane answered, “Yes, Miss Black, provided you remain the good little girl.” Up went the divider.
Little girl? “Who the fuck is she?” Slowly, the Rolls made its way up the long, twisty, private drive. There was no turning back as they neared the eastern front. Each twist gave another glimpse. “Thought it would be bigger.”
“That’s what they all say, dear.”
They gave you a face-lift too.
Jane’s view was unrestricted. The estate’s centerpiece was the faux French chateau–styled main residence. She was buttressed by two massive turrets, each twenty feet in diameter at their base. The north tower was tallest, with an additional level and a half. Its steeply peaked roof looked like an upside-down sugar cone. Above, the flag proudly flew the colors of the House of Blachmann. The south tower’s roof was flat and with a private sun platform that when built provided one with a panoramic view of the coastline. One saw only a gravel path, tall marsh grass, and mostly beach to the south. These days, the view along Ocean Boulevard was masked by a throng of million-dollar-plus beach homes. Early one spring day in 2002, the south tower’s sun deck received an extra something special. What was it? As the drive twisted again, her attention turned to the veranda.
There was something bloody odd about that veranda, but she couldn’t remember what. Have to ask Mum…
“Hey, Gran, why are the windows all black?”
“They darken to keep the sun’s heat out, dear.”
“Oh.”
